


Forlorn Hope

by pinkheichou



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Angst, Light Voyeurism, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, shangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 18:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14478936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkheichou/pseuds/pinkheichou
Summary: Not only was Shiro his crush, but he had that irrational (or maybe it was rational?) conviction that Shiro was aware of it on an acceptable level and might hoard emotions for him that went beyond a leader-teammate or friend-friend relationship, but neither Shiro nor Lance could do anything about it. They couldn’t dare indulge in craving someone else’s presence—they had a universe to protect.





	Forlorn Hope

“The mission was really tiring today.” Shiro said, exhaustion creasing his expression.

“Yeah.” Lance agreed as both halted in the hallway that led from their set lions to their rooms. Everyone else was already gone for Shiro had told them all to take a rest for the night because, as it seemed, tomorrow would be straining as well. Lance lowered his head, sensing that Shiro had put pressure on himself; punishing himself with that because he was the leader, he  _had_  to succeed. With a gentle and caring voice, he said, “Shiro, are you all right?”

Shiro was lost in his own thoughts at first, eyes dull and vacant, but he eventually gave Lance as much attention as he could muster at a time and under circumstances like these. “Yeah, yeah.” He nodded many times. “Yeah, of course.”

“I don’t think this is a matter of course.”

“Don’t worry about me, Lance. Go take some rest too. You deserve it.” Shiro patted Lance’s shoulder amiably. His smile bore resemblance to a bittersweet sacrifice.

It ached Lance seeing him like this.

“Can I do something for you?” Lance’s voice sounded as raw as sand paper. Not only was Shiro his crush, but he had that irrational (or maybe it was rational?) conviction that Shiro was aware of it on an acceptable level and might hoard emotions for him that went beyond a leader-teammate or friend-friend relationship, but neither Shiro nor Lance could do anything about it. They couldn’t dare indulge in craving someone else’s presence—they had a universe to protect.

“You can.” Lance had genuine expectations. “By going to sleep, so that I don’t have to worry about your physical fitness tomorrow.” Only for his expectations to be crushed ruthlessly. Shiro’s words had the intensity to pierce through him until they reached Lance’s vulnerable side.

He bore a look of decaying betrayal. His breathing made an anxious jump. “Okay.”

Shiro affirmed witht a curt nod, and left right immeditely. Lance eyed his leave heart-brokenly, taking into notice that Shiro was taking his helmet with him. Strange. Normally, he’d leave it inside the cockpit of his lion. Oddly enough, Lance too had his carried under his arm. He must have forgotten to put it away. He inspected his blue helmet with a scowl, but soon his eyes widened in surprise. Shiro hadn’t turned off the microphone inside his helmet that was used for communication between all Paladins during their missions.

This couldn’t be coincidence, could it?

Shiro would never make a mistake as reckless as this. However, today had torn at his nerves also, perhaps Shiro had really forgotten.

Or was he trying to allude to something with this?

Lance made out low shuffling sounds of Shiro’s armour while he was heading for his room.

Whatever the meaning of this was, Lance made the selfish decision of not letting an opportunity – with unknown expansions – slip through his fingers.

He took his own helmet to his room, the mirco kept turned on, as well, the whole time.

For quite some time, Lance didn’t hear anything. A few distant and unidentified rustles before static silence demeaned him. Maybe Shiro went for a shower? That was most likely the case. Lance should have done so too, but later he would have made reproaches at himself for what if he were to miss out on Shiro’s voice or anything that Shiro did and was audible. Now he knew that he hadn’t missed out on anything and if his assumption was right, then he’d get to hear Shiro again not much later.

Lance’s  _cruel_  crush came back to his room after an eternity and Lance had bridged the absence by torturing his mind with Shiro’s crusty and deep voice. The way he had thought of his voice had wheeled his memories to that one time where he caught Shiro smoking. Something he’d sworn off ever since he joined the garrison, but difficult times called forth bad habits indulgences for the moment. It had been a one-time thing for Shiro.  _‘Please keep it to yourself.’_  he had said to Lance, face numbed with a pale curtain of white.

Lance snapped back to reality when more shuffling noises sounded off inside his helmet. He heard Shiro sighing as he seemed to move his body around for a while. He might be lying in his bed, tired and possibly wanting to relax for the night.

It coaxed Lance to doing the same and he silently and slowly laid back, his helmet close to his face. If he produced any noises, Shiro would be able to hear them. And the last thing he wanted was to cut the secret connection to Shiro. But a part of him was still convinced that none of this was a coincidence.

Listening intently, his emotions wrapped with unsaturated dedication, Lance made out some more of Shiro’s defeaning sighs. A few rustling of clothes.

And then everything took an unexpected turn.

Moans. Clear and deep moans. Coming from the micro. Lance wasn’t hallucinating this. On the other side of the line it was Shiro who was letting out sounds of pleasure.

Shiro was masturbating?!

Was that merely an incident that would happen after some showers? Just his body reacting for no specific reason? An act of stress relief it demanded from Shiro?

Or did Shiro do it knowing that Lance was listening in on him? Did he want him to know that and what Lance was doing to him?

An egoistic inner voice inside Lance pleaded for the latter. Confidently, slyly, it jumped up and down and Lance was slowly falling apart.

_This is torture, this is torture, this is torture. Shiro, what are you doing to me!_

Lance had already tossed his shirt up (he had been smart enough to unclothe himself from his armour first), the fabric held tightly between his teeth, and his pants shimmied down with as less volume as possible.

He mewled silently, and Shiro’s hot groans grew. He breathed out actuely, every moan so lustful, shivers seared through Lance’s skin. Lance freed his hardening cock from the confinements and palmed himself first.

The grandest challenge was that of keeping himself mute. An impossibility.  _Why are you doing this to me, Shiro?_  His long fingers enclosed his leaking cock, and quick and sloppy pumping motions caused it to become engorged. He fucked himself with his fist desperately, taking in every of Shiro’s released noises, the voice railing his ears like pure feathers getting a taint of besmirched sinfulness.

“Ah, hah.” It sounded from Lance’s helmet, and Lance fisted his hard length in sync with Shiro’s wrecking voice. He had his eyes pressed close, forehead laid in creases. The tip of his dick was red and swollen, leaking and lewd. Lance used the pre-come to coat his length and smoothen his movements. His lower regions tingled and tightened, zest exploding inside him slowly, sprinkling lustful throbs through his system. Lance was hot, and keen, and needy; flipped onto his knees, head pressed against his pillow, as he gyrated his hips up and down, cock still enwrapped by his eager hand.

Suddenly, Shiro moaned, “Hah, Lance.” A beseeching whine escaped Lance’s lips and the corner of his eyes caught first dribbles of tears. He could take no more, the sexual yearning was too much for him. Unbeknownst as to whether Shiro had noticed his pathetic cry, Lance moved his hand faster, stroked himself with utter greed.

Shiro was masturbating to the thought of Lance, damn him!

_If you don’t want me, then don’t think about me when you’re jacking off! Idiot!_

Forced by his oncoming climax, Lance laid on his back now, hips held as high as he could manage with his legs. He watched how his throbbing cock was abused to the maximum by his firm fingers. He imagined how Shiro was fucking his dick to the edge with his skilled mouth. And next he’d ram into Lance and give him a second orgasm.

“Lance, ah, Lance. Hah!” Shiro’s groans were loud and perfervid. Lance was addicted to it so badly. When Shiro seemed to come with a long and sharp moan, Lance twisted his hand up and down his cock a few more times and came, toes curling, as he jerked his hips up and bit his shirt hard, muffling mewls vocal in the air.

He them plumped with his lower body onto the mattress, breathing harshly. His come had spurted in a fountain above his navel and abdomen area. Lance shook with waning bodily excitement, face flushed with pinkness and tears. All of this had overwhelmed him too much. His cock was still exposed and flabby above the wasteband of his underwear.

He whispered in a raspy voice, “Why…”

_Why did you do this, Shiro? Why did you do this to me?_

“Lance…” Was Shiro aware of Lance’s presence or was this still a product of his fantasy? “Lance, I told you to go to sleep.”

Lance closed his eyes again and took uneven breaths. He bit his bottom lip hard as the blood under his skin started to boil. A couple of tears streaked down his cheeks.

_I hate you, Shiro._

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! ^^
> 
> My tumblr is [pinkheichou](http://www.pinkheichou.tumblr.com)


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